


The Bird That Cannot Change

by anna_chronistic



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Classism, Depression, Gen, Memory Loss, One Shot, Period-Typical Sexism, the real OTP is Éponine/low self-esteem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 14:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18918562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_chronistic/pseuds/anna_chronistic
Summary: In a last-ditch attempt to be a better person, Éponine makes amends to the people in her life she's wronged, starting with Cosette.  Cosette finds out what has become of Éponine nine years after last seeing her.





	The Bird That Cannot Change

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song ["Free Bird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwqfwieV-mc).

Éponine felt trapped. She and her family lived a life of poverty and crime, one that the children were forced into. Her father had no love for any of his children at all, seeing them only as pawns in various futile schemes to con people. Éponine was the only one who was not afraid to defy him, probably because she did not care what bad things would happen to her, or even if she lived or died. Yet she wanted out so badly, wishing that somehow things would get better, no matter how it may come to pass.

She was a pathetic thing to look at too: less than a meter and a half tall with an emaciated frame, tattered clothing, and a few missing teeth. That day, she had gotten in a fight with her father where he slammed her head against a wall, causing her to lose yet another tooth. She knew that she was ugly and that there was nothing she could do about it.

But there was one thing that she could do: become a better person on the inside. She was not bad because she wanted to be bad, but because she had to. Because of this, she had an epiphany and felt obligated to make amends with others, one last chance to change and be a good person. And the stolen letter she was carrying with her prompted her to find the first person she needed to apologize to: Cosette.

~~

She saw her later that day headed towards the garden at Parc Monceau. The girl had made a triumphant comeback since the last time Éponine saw her as the unpaid, abused child-worker at the inn. Éponine was nervous, to say the least. It was risky business indeed—the girl may or may not even remember her.

“Cosette, wait up!” Éponine said, running to catch up to her, trying to get her attention. Cosette turned around and saw her waving at her with a piece of paper in her hand.

“Do I know you?” Cosette asked her. This was not looking good so far.

“Um, I am Éponine, the girl that was sent to deliver letters between you and Marius,” Éponine explained, eyes downcast.

“Oh, that is right,” Cosette recalled.

“I am sorry for stealing your letter. I still have it and have not yet given it to Marius.”

“Oh, his lodgings are probably too far away for you to get to,” Cosette said.

“No. I withheld the letter for more…personal reasons,” Éponine admitted.

“You dislike him?” Cosette asked. Éponine shook her head.

“You dislike me?”

“No,” Éponine said.

“You fancied him yourself?”

“Yes. In the past I did, but now I have all but given up. And by ‘the past’, I mean five hours ago. It was the insanely futile odds that made me abandon the idea of ever being with him. It’s about as likely as me wrestling a bear and winning,” Éponine mustered a chuckle.

“It is absolutely ridiculous of me to believe that anyone would love a low-life gamine like me. I was envious of you, someone who is intelligent, beautiful, and kind-hearted. And in a selfish act I stole the letter to intercept it from Marius. I really am truly sorry.”

“That is okay. I forgive you.”

“Thank you so much,” Éponine said. “Now I must apologize to you for other things and be on my way to make amends to other people.”

“Wait,” said Cosette. “Before you do that, I would like to know the context of this. Who are you?”

“A homeless woman in a gang,” Éponine said curtly. “Not by my own choice.”

“Almost every city has a school or a convent where nuns help the poor. Perhaps your parents could move you to a more remote place with lower crime,” Cosette suggested. “Don’t give up so easily. It gets better.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Éponine countered. “I am afraid that nothing can actually be done. Any ways of fixing my life are purely hypothetical.”

“Then what, hypothetically, would improve your situation?” Cosette asked.

“My parents actually loving me and my siblings. Freedom from crime. Perhaps even good looks could augment things. If I weren’t so hideous, people would stop taunting me for being ugly. Maybe more people would love me and not judge me. Hell, if I were as pretty as you, everyone’d love me.”

“But what does that guarantee?” Cosette asked, confused. "Being pretty is not an accomplishment and adds nothing of substance to who an individual is."

“I would disagree with that,” Éponine countered. “If you are well off enough to take good care of yourself in order to be pretty, then that is an accomplishment!”

“Hm, I never thought of it that way,” Cosette said.

“In this day and age, beauty is a major reason why women are loved. I would go so far as to say that it is almost a prerequisite for being loved. And when Marius treated me slightly better than what I was used to, I mistook that for love. It cannot be love because I am hideous.”

"Please don't call yourself hideous," Cosette said.

"Okay, I won't," Éponine said, although she knew she would be lying to herself. “Can you do me a favor, Cosette?” Éponine asked.

“Yes, what is it?”

“I know that this seems counterintuitive, but next time you see Marius, wear something ugly.”

“Wait, what?” Cosette laughed in disbelief.

“I told you it would seem stupid!” Éponine laughed. “But it’ll prove if he really loves you as a person. If he is disappointed that you aren’t as good-looking, then you should find someone else. Seriously. Love that is conditional on things that don’t last long such as wealth and beauty is a reason why many people get left.”

“That is an interesting social experiment that you propose,” said Cosette. “I’m open to do it, as I believe I am strong enough to handle rejection.”

“Rejection? It’ll be a walk in the park for you. He fell for you so quickly that none of this really matters. Now that I think of it, this is more of a practical joke to pull on Marius than genuine relationship advice.”

“That is brilliant though. I’m still going to do it. I’ll put on my best acting chops, wear something drab, and cover some of my teeth with raisins. I’ll even make up an elaborate story about my papa losing all his money.”

“Splendid,” Éponine said.

“Why don’t you conduct this social experiment yourself, Éponine? You might find someone who loves you for who you are.”

“I seriously doubt that. I have no money, no friends, no hope for the future. I am past the point of no return and this is it for me.” Éponine declared.

“What do you mean ‘this is it’?” Cosette asked, somewhat worried.

“I mean that this is the end. I do not have much time left—I’ll most likely starve to death or get murdered within the next year. I’m trying to stay here as long as possible for Gavroche and Azelma, but the fact is that I am going to die soon.”

There was a long period of awkward silence as Éponine stared into the distance and Cosette looked at the ground. Éponine knew that her life was over, yet she did not cry. Cosette sighed.

“You’re scaring me, Éponine,” Cosette said.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to do that.”

“It just haunts me to see someone give up just like that,” Cosette said.

“But giving up can also be freeing, as if you are giving up a burden that has weighed you down. An uncaged bird is still a free bird, even if it has broken wings,” Éponine said.

“I can somewhat see that,” Cosette nodded.

“You know, one thing that annoyed me about Marius was that he kept on forgetting that I could read,” Éponine smiled and shook her head. “I know it seems trivial, but that hurt me, the assumptions that people make. I am being judged for something that is essentially out of my control. I know that he is a well-intentioned person, but he still looks down on me.”

“Perhaps you could write him an apology letter to show him that you can write,” said Cosette.

“Writing a letter is a good idea indeed, but he’ll think I went to a transcriber. Because that is the way society works. The Brahmin and the untouchable cannot coexist as equal members of society, nor can the untouchable ever become a Brahmin. I cannot hate Marius because of this simple fact of life. It is not his fault. He did not make the rules, he merely follows them. He will not change and neither will I. I had an epiphany that I should make the most out of what little I have left of life instead of wasting time on things that will never change, like this pointless revolution that these students are planning. I had a plan once, I sure did, but it went to shit. A plan to escape almost a decade of destitution and crime. You see, the only way for a woman to be well-off is to have rich parents or to marry someone rich. My father hates me, so the only way for my ‘plan’ to work was by marriage. My siblings would all move in with me and my future husband. We would all live together happily and never see my father again. I had this stupid fantasy about being a hero for my family, and now I’m rambling like a madman to a girl I was supposed to apologize to!”

“Wanting to help your family is not stupid,” said Cosette. “And it is good to get things off your chest sometimes. Why can’t you become a hero and make your dreams come true?”

“Because life ain’t a dream, Cosette. I hate reality, but I will not deny it.”

“You seem bitter,” Cosette said.

“I _am_ bitter. But I’ve no right to complain because I deserve this. Perhaps this is karma for how awfully I treated you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“I do not understand,” Cosette said. “I have never met you in my life.”

“You have. Nine years ago. That inn in Montfermeil where my parents forced you to work and beat you if you didn’t work fast enough, and sometimes for no reason at all. And I would just sit there and laugh and play with the toys my mother gave me. I copied my parents before knowing how awful they truly were. Not once did I try to intervene and help you.”

“That was you?” Cosette’s eyes widened.

“Yes. Me and my sister.”

“I can’t remember you clearly though,” said Cosette. “The only two people I distinctly remember were the fat lady and the toddler. He did not like it there and neither did I. I guess your memory becomes hazy when you force yourself to forget things. I miss my mother.”

Éponine put an arm around Cosette. She remembered her parents’ exchanges with Cosette’s mother and how they continually lied to her. They made it seem that they needed more money than they actually did, fabricating a story about Cosette being ill. Once she died and the money stopped coming, they resented Cosette even more. She did not know exactly what happened to Cosette’s mother, but something told her that her parents had some connection to her death.

“She would sing to me,” said Cosette. “At some point, she would call me by my middle name. Was it Eugenia, Eunice, Euphrasie? My memories of her are good, but few and far between.”

“You will see her again when the time comes,” said Éponine.

“You were right about the world being a cruel place,” Cosette sighed.

“Cosette, you are one of the most resilient people I know. Now I know why you try to stay positive and encourage me to do the same: because things _did_ get better for you,” Éponine realized.

From the outside, it seemed that Cosette was the bourgeoise girl who had it all. The average person would not look at her today without context and think “this person is resilient”. But Éponine knew different.

“You are so very different from when I last saw you,” Éponine said, awestruck. “How did you…” Éponine began.

“How did I what?” Cosette prompted.

“Uh, never mind. It’s not important.”

“I must be on my way now, Cosette. I wish you the best of luck,” Éponine said, walking away. “Be careful. Strive to be happy.”

“You too, Éponine. I guess I will see you again soon then,” said Cosette.

“No, you won’t.”


End file.
